


The Speedster's Revenge

by Purple Streak (centaury_squill)



Category: The Flash (TV 2014)
Genre: Dubiously Consensual Blow Jobs, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-01
Updated: 2015-09-01
Packaged: 2018-04-18 07:35:31
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4697660
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/centaury_squill/pseuds/Purple%20Streak
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Barry wants answers. But that's not what he gets.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Speedster's Revenge

**Author's Note:**

  * Translation into 中文 available: [The Speedster's Revenge 極速者的報復](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8018575) by [jls20011425](https://archiveofourown.org/users/jls20011425/pseuds/jls20011425)



Barry waits until the others have left S.T.A.R. Labs before heading for Wells's secret room. This is something he has to do on his own. He's got unfinished business with Wells; Cisco and Caitlin would just get in the way. As for Joe, he'd most likely shoot the guy on sight. _Not_ what Barry wants. He wants answers.

Ever since they discovered that Dr Wells isn't Dr Wells at all, but a time-traveller from the future called Eobard Thawne, that he's also the Reverse Flash, that he killed Barry's mom when Barry was just a child, Barry has been wanting to know: _why_? What really happened that night fifteen years ago? And why has Thawne - Wells - for Barry can't shake the habit of thinking of him as Wells - been helping him, looking out for him, ever since the night the particle accelerator exploded and a lightning strike turned Barry into something impossible? The Flash: the fastest man alive.

At least, he'd _thought_ he was the fastest man alive. Until the Reverse Flash showed up... which brings him back to Wells. He _has_ to find Wells.

Outside the secret room, Barry puts his palm on the wall, the concealed door slides open, and he steps inside.

"Gideon?" he says, looking around for the AI.

The projection of a face appears, calm, wise: Gideon's avatar.

"Greetings, Barry Allen," the AI says.

"Uh, right. Greetings. Um, Gideon -" Barry pauses, wondering how to phrase this. "Gideon, do you know where Dr Wells is? Has he spoken to you lately?"

"He spoke to me today."

"What! Here?"

"Not in this room, Barry Allen. Dr Wells possesses a wrist unit with which I am able to interface."

"Ah - okay." Barry frowns, rakes his fingers through his hair. "Don't suppose you can tell me where -?"

"Certainly," Gideon replies. "Observe."

A S.T.A.R. Labs schematic winks into existence in front of Barry. He can see the room he's in at the moment, a maze of corridors, and - in a remote corner of the basement - a glowing circle.

"Is that his wrist unit?" Barry asks excitedly, pointing to the circle.

"Yes."

Hastily memorising his route, Barry's out of the door in a flash, intent on hunting his nemesis down.

But he didn't think to swear Gideon to secrecy, and when he reaches the subterranean lair, Dr Wells, forewarned, is waiting for him with a stun gun.

/\/

When Barry comes round, he's stripped to his Superman briefs and tied to a chair. He blinks up at Dr Wells, who's eyeing him with amusement.

"I didn't know you were a Superman fan, Barry."

Barry looks at him, filled with feelings he can't express. Suddenly, unexpectedly, his eyes fill with tears.

The amusement dies out of Wells's face. "Go on then, Barry," he says softly. "Ask it."

Barry swallows hard. "Why did you kill my mom?"

"I didn't come here from the future to kill Nora Allen," Wells says. "I came to kill _you_."

Barry frowns, trying to process this. "So, what, my mom died to save me?"

Wells snorts. "You've been reading too much Harry Potter. Do I _look_ like Lord Voldemort?" he says sarcastically. "No. Future you saved your ass that night. Your mom was collateral damage. And that's all I'm gonna say about it right now."

"But why did you want to kill me?" asks Barry.

Wells's eyes narrow. "Because I hated you!" he snarls. Then, perhaps because of the hurt he sees in Barry's eyes, his tone softens. "Oh, not _you_ you. Future you."

Barry can't understand this. "Why? What did - will - he do to you?"

Wells makes a dismissive gesture. "Doesn't matter now. You're not him." Their eyes lock for a long moment. Wells laughs, goes on, "But I will say, I'm not above taking a little revenge on _you_ , for what he did."

Alarmed, Barry strains against the cable ties fastening him to the chair. What revenge is Wells talking about? is he about to be murdered?

Watching Barry struggle, hair dishevelled, face flushed, all but naked, Wells's breath begins to quicken. "I'll give you a choice, Barry Allen," he says, picking a knife up off the table and advancing on his prey.

Barry glares up at him. "What choice?"

"Either a good whipping - or -"

Barry gulps. "Or?" he whispers, eyeing the knife.

"Or you can suck my dick," Wells says, laying the knife blade against the skin of Barry's arm. "Your choice."

"Not gonna happen," Barry says, sticking his chin out belligerently. But he can't help wondering what it would be like... he's often, guiltily, wondered what sex with Harrison Wells would be like...

And that's his undoing. Barry's only too aware that his skimpy Superman briefs are doing little to hide his arousal.

"Say, the Man of Steel's stretching," sniggers Wells. "Looks like you pick option two." He slices through the cable ties with his knife, freeing Barry from the chair.

Barry staggers to his feet, lurches forward; Wells catches him. They sway together, arms around each other: it's hard to tell if they're fighting or embracing. Maybe they don't even know themselves.

Finally, Wells takes charge, urges Barry to his knees. "Option two," he reminds him.

Barry nods, reaches up. Resting one hand on Wells's thigh, he undoes his zipper with the other. Wells gives a long sigh as his cock springs free. "Oh, _yeah_ ," he breathes. "Do it, Barry."

Barry nuzzles obediently at Wells's cock, licking stripes along its shaft, probing its tip, already weeping precome, with his tongue.

"Fuck, Barry, stop teasing!" Wells gasps. "Take it! Take it all!" He grabs fistfuls of Barry's hair, tugging his head back, and as Barry opens his mouth to protest, thrusts his cock in deep.

Barry splutters, tries to turn his head aside, but Wells is relentless. He holds Barry in position by his hair and pumps his hips, vigorously fucking Barry's face. It's not until Barry's trying to catch his breath, obviously distressed, that Wells takes pity on him and pulls out. Barry leans his face against Wells's legs, shaking, breathing heavily, while Wells gently strokes his hair.

"J-just gimme a minute, okay?" Barry mumbles. "I-I've not done this before."

Wells's eyes darken; he looks down at Barry with a mixture of lust and reluctant affection. "Take your time."

Barry takes a deep breath, wraps his hand around the base of Wells's cock, and guides it towards his mouth. First, he just brushes the sensitive cockhead with his open lips; when Wells makes no attempt to pounce on him again, Barry opens his mouth a bit wider, takes more in.

"Ah, _Barry_ ," Wells groans. But he still has control of himself, still holds back, alllowing Barry to set the pace.

Gaining confidence, Barry's soon sucking enthusiastically, his own excitement building to match Wells's. By the time Wells flings back his head and shouts "Yessssss!" Barry's own cock is poking eagerly over the top of his Superman briefs.

Wells sighs with satisfaction, tucks his softening cock away, zips himself up. He smiles fondly at Barry, who's wiping his lips with the back of one hand, reaching downwards with the other. He's won his small bet with himself: Barry Allen is a swallower. Time to give him his reward.

"Let me take care of that," Wells says, expertly freeing Barry's cock from its confinement. "I'll show you what a speedster's hand job feels like..."

The End


End file.
